


Look how far we've come

by prayforpiett



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Crack, Drinking does not solve your problems Giles, Father-Daughter Relationship, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28958136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prayforpiett/pseuds/prayforpiett
Summary: Ethan escaped from the rehabilitation centre so Giles' obvious solution to the problem on hand is to get drunk. But the night doesn't go as he expects. An unlikely person comes to his aid, and maybe, just maybe she'll make him understand that he has no reason to drown himself in guilt anymore.
Relationships: Rupert Giles & Buffy Summers, Rupert Giles/Ethan Rayne
Kudos: 10





	Look how far we've come

**Author's Note:**

> Might be a bit ooc because it started out as a crack fic but then my Giles spotify playlist started working a bit too well, and I ended up having Feels so I rewrote it.
> 
> My only beta was Grammarly and I'm not a native speaker so I'm sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

Willy's Place was dark and if one looked close enough, the walls were stained with grease, remains of alcohol and other dark substances that smelled faintly of iron but he had run out of alcohol and this was just as good of a place to drink as any. The other guests didn't dare to bother him, the vampires huddled in the corner furthest away from him although he almost wished that one of them was foolish enough to pick a fight with him. His hands were already curled into fists, to prevent him from tracing the lines of the hastily scribbled writing on the napkin laying on the table before him.

_"Be seeing you, old man."_

He had found it on his desk that afternoon, along with a bottle of excellent scotch from which he carefully kept his distance. He was not in the mood to grow horns. Still, he had taken the note, sat down on his couch absentmindedly fidgeting with the crumpled piece of paper and waited for the news to come.

And so they came a few hours later, in the form of Riley Finn who barged into his house without knocking and informed him Ethan that had escaped the rehabilitation centre leaving chaos behind him, as always. Apparently, he incited a riot inside, then promptly lead every ally into a trap leaving him the only one to get out. He didn't expect anything else, there was no facility capable of holding him. And if Giles was honest with himself, he didn't even deserve to rot in one for the rest of his life. There was a lot of things that Ethan deserved like being beaten into pulp in a semi-regular basis but spending decades in the Initiative's rehabilitation centre was not one of those things. Especially when kicking him just felt so bloody good sometimes.

But still, he wouldn't have hesitated so much before telling Riley with a blank expression that he hadn't heard anything from Ethan and he certainly wouldn't have come here to drink if his feelings about him weren't complicated. They were still a tangled mess, even though the 1970s were long gone, their dissipated bloody haze dissolved, leaving only the faint taste of iron on his tongue. But when was anything ever easy with Ethan Rayne? He has visited him multiple times since he chose to return to the Watchers bringing, chaos and misadventures with him. These visits usually ended with hangovers and kisses that tasted like alcohol and regret. They were wrecks, tearing each other apart at every seam.

He had hoped that this centre was a chance for Ethan to change, and for him to forget but he knew from the start that these hopes were futile. They always were. Now, he was free and their little games started again. Worse, he was almost glad for it. Ethan was a coward, a nuisance and a right arsehole but he was a constant, something that he could always count on to turn up and keep him company, even if his definition of company was somewhat... Unorthodox. Giles had few people in his life, even fewer adults and although loneliness among others was a concept he was familiar with from his years he spent as a Watcher in training but it still cut deeper than he would have liked. Ethan brought out the worst of him but that meant he didn't expect him to be responsible and he didn't hold him to any ideals. There was no reason to hide any part of himself when they were together. 

Suddenly a figure cast a shadow on the table before him and he looked up, hoping to see a vampire ready to pick a fight but he found himself staring at Buffy Summers in all her post-patrol glory, Mr Pointy still strapped to her belt. She looked worried as she glanced at his almost empty glass.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Please tell me we are not having an apocalypse again. I drank too much to deal with that." He muttered but he was instantly ready to jump out of his seat.

"Everything is fine, don't worry. I've just heard the news." She said softly. "Beer bad, don't you remember Giles?"

"I'm hardly a freshman girl drinking away my relationship troubles." He grumbled, tilting his glass to examine the last of his drink.

"No, you are an old fossil drinking away your relationship troubles."

"Hey, I-"

When it fully registered what she said, he choked.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I can leave you alone with your wheat flavoured sadness juice if you want me to. I just thought that you'd want to talk to someone about this. I've had my share of bad, no that's not the right word, disastrous relationships. So I can relate. Sort of."

She flashed a nervous smile at him and he suddenly missed his tweed-clad librarian days when she used to think of him as a 2D cartoon figure, someone without a past or any life at all outside of his dusty books and even dustier social skills. It was disconcerting to be a person in her eyes especially if that person was not someone that he was proud of being or someone that she needed. However, it was too late to slip back into his Watcher persona again and he wasn't even sure if he truly wanted that but he was still determined to not let her find out more about his past, than strictly necessary.

"I'm not discussing this with you, Buffy. First of all, I'm in no relationship with Ethan. What even makes you even think that we w-were uhm... an item?"

He cringed at his own words, all too aware that California had rubbed off on his vocabulary more than he would have liked. 

"I wasn't exactly sure until now, but the choking made it pretty clear."

As if this conversation couldn't get any worse, Giles felt his face turn bright red and Buffy looked away, starting to fidget with the strap of her shoulder bag.

"Okay, maybe Olivia had slipped up a bit. But it was not her fault, really. You know how tiring I can be. Buffy, the Tiring. You know me." She was rambling now, obviously just as uncomfortable as he is, but she seemed determined to carry on and he was not sure whether that made it better or worse.

God, he was going to have to have a long talk with Olivia after this. He was sure that if she told Buffy then that was more than an accidental slip up. She has always had a tendency to do what she deemed right, or necessary damn the consequences. Even in that mouldy flat in the seventies, when he was the worst possible version of himself she had the nerve to threaten to call the cops when she thought that he and his band went too far. She never knew how far they truly went, but even then he had a begrudging admiration for his determination. Ethan never liked her and did everything, to stop her visits. Of course, he never liked anyone that had even a lick of common sense and that was what exactly what made him so damn charming. Around him, the world seemed to abide by different rules and he made it feel foolish to be righteous and cautious when everything they've ever wanted was within reach if they were willing to grab it. Olivia was his hook to the world, where people didn't make prophecies out of fever dreams. 

"Look, I just wanted to be able to help. You've been always here for me and I want to be here for you."

He felt strangely touched but at the same time, the mere mention of Ethan's name made him recoil from any conversation they'd have.

"Right. Marvellous. G-good to know." The alcohol consumed doesn't help his stutter and he is already self-conscious enough to dip into dry sarcasm. "Now, that we are apparently at the "gossiping about boys" stage of our relationship, when are you going to offer me ice cream?"

"I have something better than ice cream."

She pulled out a box from her bag and puts on the table. It smelled like sugar, calories and late nights spent in the library.

"Doughnuts? Seriously?"

"Yep. Jellies and a few chocolate ones for me. And a huge pink glazed one also for me. With sprinkles. Lots and lots of sprinkles."

Giles raised an eyebrow.

"What? I'm home for the holidays and Mom is doing a new diet so I can't have any sugary stuff near her. Besides, you'll feel better if you are not the only one gorging yourself on dubious amounts of dessert."

Even though he would have rather been anywhere else in the world right then, he still couldn't suppress a slight smile.

"It seems like you are quite expert at this."

"As I've said. I have a bad taste in men." She shrugged, as she threw herself down on the chair at the opposite end of the table.

"More like a positively murderous one."

It was probably not the best thing to say, it was probably the worst thing to say but it came out anyway because he was drunk, slightly bitter and he still had scars that none of them wants to speak about. Still, he regretted it instantly as hurt ran through her face. He swore that he wouldn't blame her because it was not her fault and she didn't deserve his anger, so he clumsily reached across the table and apologetically squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know Giles, you don't have to apologize."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't." She said even more determinedly and smiled slightly. "And anyway, we are talking about your bad taste in men, not mine. You are the one whose sorcerer ex-boyfriend just escaped the most well-guarded rehabilitation facility in the states."  


Oh great, apparently they were back at the topic on hand. He supposed he should be grateful that they weren't opening old wounds and arguing about Angel all over again and but it was hardly a relief.

"He is not my ex-b... He is not my anything and hasn't been for a very long time."

"He may be not but you are still here drinking."

"I'm an adult Buffy, I drink whenever I bloody please and it has nothing to do with Ethan."

It came out louder and harsher than he expected and she flinched.

"Sorry. I just wanted to help. I know you never talk about this stuff with anyone and... Bottling it up haven't done any good to me. I've learnt it the hard way."

She wrapped her arms around herself and he suddenly felt an overwhelming mix of sorrow and pride. When did she become such an adult? It was a stupid question to ask, he had seen every moment of the journey but still, looking at the young woman before him made him realise just how far she had come from the young girl who wandered into his library, asking for a textbook. And she was probably right, he did need to talk about it. Maybe not now, not right here but he couldn't hold onto this forever.

"I appreciate your concern, it's just..."

"I'm not the right person for this. Gotcha."

"God knows, I'm already not a great role model for you but I think I'd classify as a positively horrid one if you knew all the things I got up to when I was a few decades younger and a few brain cells shorter."

"You don't need to adjust yourself to fit my presumed image of you. I'm not a child anymore, you don't have to play a role for me, Giles. And you know, there is that thing called learning from other people's mistakes."

"It's worse than you think." He said quietly.

"I don't care. You are not that person anymore."

"As Ethan so graciously reminds me from time to time, I still have more of Ripper left in me than I'd like."

He wouldn't have gotten that twisted sense of enjoyment from his visits if he had managed to completely leave his youth behind. Ethan's shenanigans were childish and theatrical but they gave both of them a semblance of the rush they felt when they were young and thought that the world was theirs. It was a hollow substitute for the love they once shared. God, they were so old and pathetic.

"Maybe. But you've done good things. Lots of them."

"Well, it'd be hard to make up for my mistakes otherwise."

There was a curious expression on her face, as she examined him.

"Do you really think that you only do this because of your guilt?"

The question caught him by surprise. Why would she even ask something like this? He thought that she should know better but then he realised what she meant. He spent years burying himself in work, tweed and lies. He cut his hair, he parroted the Council's slogans, because he thought that it was the only way to make up for the damage he had done, to redeem himself. Now he was fighting for something different, he was fighting for those he loved, for something he truly believed in. It was not the guilt that motivated him. Even though there was a part of him that still craved the chaos and magic Ethan brought with him, that was not what he truly wanted anymore. Maybe it was not only Buffy who had come far.

He silently shook his head and she grinned a bit too smugly as if he had just realised something very very obvious.

"Good, then eat your doughnuts, drink your beer and remember to call me if you want me to track down Ethan Rayne so you can kick his ass." She said as she stood up, adjusting her shoulder bag.

"I appreciate your offer but I doubt that you could find him if he didn't want to be found."

"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Giles." She quipped over her shoulder as she walked out the bar leaving staring after her, with a dumbfounded grin on his face.

He raised his glass towards the closing door and drank the rest of his beer. He was going to have to call Olivia and thank that woman for being the only one with a lick of common sense.

Just like old times.


End file.
